IN 1983 I took part in the ‘B’ mile race during an inter-house athletics meeting at Chinhoyi High.
Our House badly needed points to be crowned champions.
We targeted the ‘B’ mile race, the last race of the day.
Moses was our trump card.
I and my friend Shame were given the task of harassing the leading pack, tire them and eventually drop out in the last round in time for Moses to launch his final assault on exhausted opponents.
From the blocks me and Shame took to the front and ran our lungs out.
Shame dropped out after two rounds.
I felt I still had the energy and maintained pole position in the third round.
In the final lap, I began to believe in myself.
I never saw our hero Moses, who I later learnt, dropped out in the final lap. Immediately behind me was only one opponent, a white chap, who was menacingly getting closer.
That he was white was not irrelevant.
Metres before the finishing line, I felt as if I was blacking out.
Moments after the race I regained my consciousness.
The good news was that I had managed to cross the finishing line before I fainted. The bad news was that I had been beaten into second place by the white chap.
With that our house lost out on a chance to become champions.
But for the rest of the year I was a house hero.
The race marked the end of Moses’ athletics career and the beginning of mine.
In life we tend to be judged by finish line behaviour not by how fast we got off the blocks.
I am reminded of the story of one of our liberation heroes from the village; Cde Tozivepi.
On completion of his ‘O’ Levels, he wanted to enroll for apprenticeship training in Harare.
To qualify he had to take up ‘call up’ service in the army.
He signed up for white-men’s service.
Back in the village, war was intensifying.
Comrades gave last chance to parents of mapuruvheya (those serving in police, army, prisons, DAs) to go to town and bring back their sons from such dishonourable service.
Many went and returned, except for one, empty handed.
The exception was Tozivepi.
Women in the village mourned him alive ahead of the next pungwe.
To our shock the comrades received Tozivepi well and days later he was taken to Mozambique.
He returned in 1980 via Dzapasi to a hero’s welcome.
A year after Tozivepi abandoned Rhodesian military service; I was in Dangamvura at a Muzorewa rally.
Star attraction was Cde Max, a commander in the UANC militia.
We went to the rally with my schoolmates.
For most of them, ‘bhonirukisheni’, this was the closest they could get to see a comrade.
Max looked convincing in his jeans outfit, cap and AK47.
His singing and dancing did fit the bill. Max, in his brief address indicated he had joined the struggle because of Muzorewa and he had returned from the bush to serve Muzorewa.
In the bush, Max had most likely been a freedom fighter, just like the many other comrades I saw in the village during school holidays.
It is a sad tale of two comrades who swopped roles.
Today Comrade Tozivepi is a new farmer with potential to become a Member of Parliament one day.
Comrade Max is not recognisable, living or dead, vomit from our liberation struggle.
He faltered at the finishing line.
In last week’s piece we made reference to the sad story of Gampu Sithole and Mtshana Khumalo, decorated commanders of the Ndebele army.
During the 1893 Anglo-Ndebele war these two commanders gave their all defending motherland.
Gampu Sithole had done very well blockading Mangwe Pass and keeping white supply lines to the south closed.
In 1896 he joined whites and is credited with keeping same supply lines open.
This Induna took several of his headmen and Kalanga subjects to help the whites. However, by the end of this struggle they joined a long list of First Chimurenga traitors who collaborated with the invading whites.
Collaboration in 1896 manifested itself in the provision of fighting men, intelligence and in keeping supply lines to the south open.
Some Africans chose collaboration in-order to settle old rivalries with fellow African groups while others were motivated by monetary or material gain.
In Chikomba we saw this in the conduct of Chiefs Chivese, Musarurwa, Ranga and Marara.
Whereas the fate of heroes and patriots turned traitors from the First Chimurenga is fairly straight forward, it is not so with regards the Second Chimurenga.
The latter is bitterly contested and emotive.
We feel the heat of these emotions especially each time a National Hero status request is turned down.
Some requests are failed by obscured history and others by struggle secrets related to failure to cross the finishing line.
In both instances, it’s amazing to note how little we know of our history.
The adage goes; “History is written from the perspective of winners.”
If so, why is it that the bulk of available literature on the Second Chimurenga has been written by Rhodesians?
Why are there so few biographies on icons of the struggle?
Why have our historians conspired with participants of the struggle to keep this history away from public eyes?
The other day I was saddened to hear that an illustrious son of the struggle had missed out on National Hero status because his comrades had not availed his history.
Please.
In the end, we create a list of failed National Hero requests that lumps patriots with failures and Special Branch informers.
Is that why Peter Manyani, Samuel Munodawafa, Sheba Tavarwisa and others have not been duly honoured despite crossing the finishing line?
And where should we place Ndabaningi Sithole, Dzinashe Machingura, James Chikerema, Henry Hamadziripi and other like folks in this debate?
And concerning recent requests should we not be told more about Washington Malianga and Edward Pswarayi?
For how long shall we continue to say it’s too soon to write the history of our struggle?